The World Of Color
by DareToDreamTonight
Summary: Kurt Hummel is a 19 year old student at NYADA in New York City. He meets a boy on the bus, and couldn't be more drawn to him. Oneshot, AU!Glee.


A/N: Hi everyone! This is my first fanfiction! I hope you like it! :3

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><p>It was another slow day at NYADA for Kurt Hummel, as he tapped his foot against the sidewalk concrete and adjusted his messenger bag on his shoulder. His Dramatic Literature class was cut short for the day, but he still had to finish reading Hamlet for tomorrow. Kurt rested his head against the bus stop pole, pulling his iPhone out to check the time. 5:56. This bus was supposed to be here about 2 minutes ago. <em>C'mon, hurry up<em>, Kurt thought to himself. He then saw that he had one missed text from his roommate and friend, Rachel Berry.

Rachel Berry: (5:43) I'm ordering a pizza with the money my dads sent me for my birthday. Mushroom and olive okay with you?

Me: (5:57) Yeah, Rach. Be home soon.

The tolls of a bell rung from down the street, ushering in a gray bus to the stop where Kurt stood. It stopped a few feet from where Kurt was standing, as he tucked his phone back into his pocket and boarded the bus, paying his fare with his clipper card.

Soon after he boarded, the bus began to move again. Kurt looked around the bus, seeing that there were no empty seats. Well, there were two. One was next to some scraggly old homeless man sitting in the back of the bus. Being able to smell the marijuana on this person from the front, Kurt decided to take the seat next to a boy, about his age, with curly black hair and hazel eyes.

Kurt gave a polite smile, looking down at the boy. "I'm sorry, can I sit here?"

The boy looked up at Kurt, seeming to be dazzled by him by the way he was smiling at Kurt. He immediately brought his backpack down from his seat and placed it at his feet. Kurt gratefully took the seat and placed his own messenger bag on his lap. He took out his notepad, placing his bag at his own feet, rocking back and forth from the flow of the bus and began to sketch.

He would always get lost when he was sketching. Lost in a world where there was no pain. No anger. No hurt. Just a world of art. A world of imagination. A world of color. His pencil was furiously sketching over the paper, and Kurt was absentmindedly smiling at what he was drawing.

"You draw?" A tentative, quiet voice came from next to him, as did a gentle nudge with an elbow.

Kurt, being startled, dragged his pencil to make an adverse line right across his drawing. He looked down and gasped quietly, silently cursing to himself.

A gasp escaped the boy's lips too, as he gently brought his hand over to Kurt's arm. "Oh my God, I am so sorry."

Kurt glared at the hand on his arm, feeling as though it was burning through his clothes and his skin like a burning pan. He quickly pulled his arm away, giving the boy a fake smile. "Oh, it's no problem. Really." He sighed exasperatedly and looked back down at his sketchpad.

The boy looked down sadly. "It was lovely before I messed it up," he muttered, "It wouldn't be the first time I fucked something up."  
>The bus came to an abrupt stop as the boy pulled the stop request line and stood up. He squeezed by Kurt and sighing. "I'm sorry about your drawing."<p>

Kurt waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, don't even worry about it. You didn't mean to." Kurt extended his hand. "I'm Kurt."

Looking back at the open bus door and then quickly back to Kurt, the boy smiled quietly and took the brunette's hand. "Blaine." He then gave a small wave and rushed off the bus.

Kurt leaned back in his seat. Then he looked back down at his sketchpad.

He was drawing a large, beautiful hazel eye.

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><p>Blaine Anderson sighed as he rested his chin in his hand as he looked out the window of the bus. It was a crisp fall day, the orange leaves swirling through the sky, and the wind blowing around them. The red leaves and the yellow mixed into the orange, creating a flurry of dancing colors. Blaine smiled quietly to himself. Small things like this always made his day a little happier.<p>

The bus stopped on a quieter street, with only one boy getting on. Blaine looked up at him and immediately felt his heart tie in knots. He looked about his age, his brown hair being raked out of his face by the boy's hand. Blaine couldn't help but grin quietly to himself just at the sheer sight of this boy.

He looked around the bus, seeming to be looking for a seat. Blaine thanked God silently to himself that he had his backpack up on the seat next to him, keeping that spot open and pretending to dig through it anytime a new passenger wanted a seat. He kept his hands folded in his lap this time, not wanting the boy to be ushered away. And, as if fate slapped him across the face, the boy asked to sit down right next to him. Blaine couldn't refuse, simply because he was tongue-tied right now, and immediately grabbed his backpack and put it between his feet on the floor of the bus.

The brunette boy gazed into Blaine's eyes for a few seconds. Blaine could immediately feel the color rush to his cheeks. This was a stranger, for Christ's sake, and he was just staring into his eyes blatantly. The sheer fact that this boy was attractive didn't hurt either. Quickly, the boy grabbed his sketchbook and began drawing.

Blaine did his best to pretend to be occupied out the window, but kept finding himself looking back over at the boy, trying to catch a glimpse of what he was drawing. It piqued his interest, as did the boy himself. Finally willing to break the silence, Blaine nudged the boy as gently as he could and gave a smile. "You draw?"

The look on the boy's face when his pencil had skid across his paper and made a very, very awkward line right in the middle of his drawing, made Blaine instantly feel bad. He drew his hand up and placed it on the boy's arm. "Oh my God, I am so sorry." The recoil of the boy's arm made Blaine's stomach drop.

"Oh, it's no problem. Really." Blaine looked down at his lap sadly, knowing he must have somehow struck a nerve with the boy. Blaine felt awkward as ever, so he looked out the window to see if his stop was coming up. Luckily, it was. He pulled the stop request line and squeezed past the boy, keeping his backpack on his shoulders.

"I'm sorry about your drawing." _It's not the first time you've ruined something special to you, _Blaine thought to himself as he shook the boy's, whose name happened to be Kurt, hand. He gave a small wave to Kurt, hopping off the bus and watching it ride off down the street into the distance.

Blaine ran a hand through his hair as he gripped the strap of his backpack. That boy did something to him. Sure, he had felt that way with girls before. He was straight. Of course he would feel turned on by a girl. But a guy...? That just was unusual to Blaine. Shrugging off the idea, he walked up the front steps to his house.

Blaine grabbed his key from his pocket and stepped in after unlocking the door. He closed it gently behind him, walking into the foyer. The smell of dinner wafted in from the kitchen, and Blaine walked over to greet his mother, Susan Anderson.

"Hello, sweetie. How was school today?" Susan turned around, smiling at her son as she put her casserole in the oven.

Blaine took a seat at the table, setting his backpack down on the floor. "Boring. I love Julliard and everything, but the work there is just getting piled on."

Susan walked over to Blaine, her 4-inch Louboutins clinking as she walked. She planted a small kiss on the cheek, bringing her hand and running it through his hair. "Oh, honey. Things will get easier. You're only a freshman anyways. Now, go upstairs and get freshened up. Dinner will be ready soon." She shooed him away, heading off into the dining area to go set the table. Blaine picked his backpack up and headed up the stairs to his room, his encounter with Kurt still silently rushing through his mind.


End file.
